Vampire x Witch
by Arctic Zero
Summary: A vampire who has lived for over 300 hundred painful years finally finds a new encounter with a witch that has lived longer than the vampire. What will happen between them?


A dark misty fog settled in the town of Haven. It was a fairly large town, with a shopping district in the center, a cathedral to the West, and a small castle to the East. A larger castle looms over the town to the North, and the moon seems to always crest over the tip of the highest tower of said castle. It gave off the eerie feeling that would inspire parents to make horror stories to keep the children from going outside when it is dark. The residential area lies toward the South, and in the night, the town is as noisy with drunken laughter and bar fights as it is noisy with storeowners beckoning passing people to look at their goods for sale. It really wasn't of much harm, seeing as the next town was five miles away. However, it really did annoy the lone resident of the Northern Castle. He was infamous for charming men's wives to his bedchamber, and there had been rumors that some of the women he leads to his castle never came back. It is rather odd to think that the town of Haven was oblivious to these rumors. For the most part, they were. A lot of people keep moving into Haven due to the freedom that new settlers find. They could plant their own plants and fruits in their own land and make their own money by shipping it out through trade caravans that passed through the town daily.

But there is another rumor floating about that there was a girl that looked around the age of 16 or 17 who was accused of being a witch. Normally, the townspeople would hunt for her and burn her at the stake, but she's also the reason why the soil was fertile and allowed the townspeople to grow plenty of crops. They liked the witch. She was a pretty girl. Through witchcraft, she helped out the farmers, and indirectly, the whole town. She also appears to never age, since the eldest of those living in Haven still remember her presence since they were young. She'd always been there for as long as the elders remember. However, she lives alone in her house on top of the hill right beside the Northern Castle. The townspeople sent the bravest group of men to traverse in front of the Northern Castle and make their way up the hill to the witch's house, and give her some supplies, like firewood, food that keeps fresh for a long time such as dried fish and salted meats, and more. Whenever a household offers the witch at least a night over at their house, she will refuse, saying she was fine living on top of her hill. Some men from another town thought they could take advantage of the witch's great kindness and force her to make love, but those men often times find themselves unable to set foot on the hill where her house was located. Rumor has it that only those with benevolent intentions may pass through the hill.

* * *

><p>It was a painful existance. To live alone in such a big, grand castle. Every day, he would spend his time practicing swordplay in a room specially designed to look like a small arena. In the afternoon, he would gaze out the window and watch the shopping district's activities. At evening, he would walk around the halls of his castle, sometimes going out to charm a lonely woman back to his bedchamber. He did not eat, or sleep, or even drink water. There was only one reason for that. He was a Dhampir, born to a human mother and a vampire father. He has long since reached the age of maturity where he would turn into a full vampire, but he used sheer willpower to prevent the transformation from happening. For three hundred years, he has been resisting the transformation, and for three hundred years, he hasn't slept. Because of this, he has an ashen appearance. He wears a coat that went all the way down right above his ankles, and he wore boots that went up three inches below his knees. He wore dark pants and a gray shirt, paired with a small, faded red tie that only extended to his chest. The shoulders of his coat were patched in red, as well as the ends of it's sleeves. He wears black leather gloves, and he stands 5'11". He had a slightly muscular build, but no one really knows for sure. Not even the eldest of the eldest in the town of Haven has seen this man set foot outside his castle during daylight, much less see his figure. His yellow eyes glowed in the dark, and his dark hair was as dark as dark could be. His name? Azen.<p>

It was all the usual for the townspeople of Haven when suddenly a large clamor was heard by one of the houses in the residential area. The lights went on in each household, and eventually, a rather small mob with torches and pitchforks appeared outside the house where the clamor was heard from. One of the brave ones checked inside, and there they saw a woman lying limp in the arms of Azen, and he was sucking at the side of her throat.

With a loud cry, the brave one shouted, "Vampire!"

The crowd gasped and Azen made his escape by jumping out through the window of the second floor of the house and landing foolishly on his knees. His chin dripped of blood, and his fangs were bared. His yellow eyes threatened the townspeople, but they all pointed the sharp end of whatever they were holding at him. Someone even flashed a cross at Azen. He cowered, yet he did not show fear. He hissed, yet he moved backward. He couldn't move his legs, for his knees were broken. He knew that reasoning out with these people was useless, since most of them were either drunk or eternally scarred with the image of Azen sucking on the blood of the poor maiden. They wouldn't listen. But every time they impale him through the heart with a stake, he would only take it out and manage to escape. Even though he survived every instance of being impaled, it didn't mean he did not feel it. He feared the pain of being impaled once more, but he also grew tired of the sensation. He didn't want to feel it anymore. It's just pain. Pain that renewed it's experience with each occurance.

He glared at the townspeople. He only wanted to feed. It's not like the maiden died. She was just unconscious from the shock of getting her skin pierced by Azen's fangs. But then, right when he thought all his glaring and his hissing and clawing to keep the townspeople away, about six people rushed in with wooden stakes and impaled him in the heart. He screamed in agony as the those who stabbed him twisted the stakes around, and stabbed him again and again in the chest, but he still won't die. He wanted to tell the people to stop, but his voice was too occupied screaming in pain. He wanted to claw them away, but he did not want to hurt the townspeople.

Eventually, the townspeople grew tired of attempting to kill him. Since their normal methods didn't work, they called for the witch to rid them of the poor vampire. She arrived a few minutes later, and bore witness to the bleeding vampire, who couldn't even begin to walk away because of his broken knees. She pitied him, and she went to his side. When she held him in her arms, the townspeople watched carefully. They were ready to give the vampire another dose of stabbing and impaling should he do anything funny. And to their surprise, he did. Azen bit the witch's neck and started drinking her blood. They were about to rush, but the witch held up a hand to signal them to stop. She moaned a bit, but then she would giggle as if she was being tickled. When the vampire finished, he smiled weakly. She placed her hand over his knees and with a quick, bright light, his knees were healed. She placed her hand on his bloodied chest, and the same thing happened, with his wounds closing up. Azen stood up, and he took the witch's hand and kissed the back of it as a sign of gratitude. The townspeople found it rather odd that someone who was found sneaking around in the homes of others could be such a gentleman.

"I haven't gotten your name, sir," the witch asked.

"Azen," He replied.

"My name is Angela. Fancy that, our names start with the same sound," Angela replied with a smile. "Why don't you spend the night at my house? Your wounds need time to heal, and getting back to your castle will be quite a hike with all the stairs there. My hill is friendlier to your knees at the moment," she said.

"Are you sure you should be letting this vampire reside with you, Angela?" A townsperson asked.

"If you really think about it, he hasn't hurt any of you even though you brutally hurt him, am I right? He's done nothing to retaliate to your actions, and he even shared his name. Don't you think he could be trusted when you show him kindness?" the witch asked. The townspeople were humbled at her words. She was right. However, she also had a manipulative hold on them. Whatever she says is considered law in the town of Haven, so they had no choice but to watch as the vampire and the witch made their way towards the hill where the witch lived.

The townspeople had one final test for the vampire before they even turned their back on him. If he managed to climb the hill by himself, without the witch's help, then they would agree to not be hostile to him. Even the maiden who Azen bit that night supported him, since he spared her life. With slow steps, his boots carried him up the hill slowly. When he got to the top, the townspeople bid the witch a good night before returning to their houses. Once the witch and the vampire entered the house on top of the hill, the witch made the vampire sit down on a chair.

"Welcome to my home. Sorry if it's a bit plain. I like to live simply," The witch started. She started fixing her bed to accomodate the guest, and she continued. "I'm sure you know, but it's not really easy to live for a long time. All I ever want is to finally rest easy. To finally pass away and be with my friends who have gone to the afterlife long ago. But my effects on the people of this town is like a mission. I can't just leave these people to fend for themselves when they have depended on me for a long time. Perhaps, when the people have found a new person to depend on, I can finally rest."

The witch continued on, but when she turned around, the vampire was sleeping in the chair. She smiled and caressed his cheek. "A vampire sleeping at night? What an odd vampire," Angela commented.

Nevertheless, Angela took a blanket and put it over Azen's shoulders. For the first time in three hundred years, he slept. Angela would play with his hair for a moment, before she herself retired to her bed. She positioned the chair so that it was facing her bed, so it looked like Azen fell asleep while tending to Angela, who needed no tending. Angela's red hair matched her ruby eyes, and she wore a sleeveless buttoned shirt and a black skirt, with black pointed boots to match. She took off her boots solemnly and rested her head back on her pillow. She took one last glance at the vampire, then sat up to blow out the candle that lit her bedside, then went to sleep.


End file.
